The Power of Eighteen
by GiTrtl
Summary: Eighteen kids. One brand new school. One director (thought) from hell. Smallest band in the state. How the heck will they pull their first yearseason off? With flying colors and music filled hearts.
1. Starting Off Scared

Starting Off Scared

This is based off a real band. My band in fact. This is the first year the school has ever been open and there are only eighteen of us in the marching band. Some of the events are factual. Some aren't. But it still makes a good story for a great band. How the hell did we pull this season off? With flying colors.

"Okay kids, since only a few of you showed up and we have no instruments, music, nor equipment. Let's just talk." Our murderer had just walked through the door. His name was Bob Ebert and he would kill us all before the beginning of the school year. We all stayed quiet and pulled our chairs into a mini circle.

"Now I'm going to list off names. If the name is yours, say 'Here' and give me your instrument. If not. Just say what instrument they play. Brandiey Ange."

"Here, saxophone." Came a voice of knowledge and creativity.

"Sarah Austin"

"Here, flute." A small girl to accompany a small high-pitched voice.

"Charlie Baity"

"Here, baritone." A voice of that of a clown, but not very good with jokes.

"Evan Briggman"

"Yo, trumpet." A loud mouth, big head, but damn good trumpeter.

"Dave Bryoles."

"Here, trumpet." Soft, but with a mysterious disposition.

"Jennifer Classen"

"Jen, percussion." A large girl with an alto voice, she had to be to be the only percussion girl.

"Angel Hadeed."

"Here, flute." A blonde, whiny voiced, pain in the rear.

"Robbie Harris."

"That scrawny little kid is in here?"

"Yes he is. Do you know what he plays?"

"Saxophone."

"Michael Mosley."

"Percussion."

"Louis Patrozus."

"Percussion."

"How many percussion do we have?"

"Dunno."

"Gray Pugh."

"Here, clarinet." A voice of someone who felt better then the rest. This was going to be a long year with him.

"Justin Robey."

"Here, percussion."

"Ladys and gentlemen, we have enough for a full line now."

"What?"

"Never mind. Christi Rushe."

"Here, flute." A strong voice with a determined fragrance and a friendly stature.

"Jonathan Smoot."

"Heh, Smoot, heh."

"In this band, you will not make fun of others. Do you know his instrument?"

"Here, trumpet." He had just walked through the door. A voice of a delinquent. Someone who would definitely cause problems.

"Chris Storer."

"Who?"

"He's a freshman."

"I remember him. He played, uh, trombone for a semester in Middle before Ballard ran him off."

"Yea, I remember him too. Wasn't too good and didn't like to practice."

"Well, he will if he's going to stay in this band." We knew our life was over the moment that came out of the director's mouth.

"Rebecca Walker."

"Here, clarinet." A voice of a talk-a-lot. Blonde and surely acting like it.

"Logan Wilkerson."

"Here, flute." A kind, but very smart voice. Someone who was amused easily and with random topics.

"Myles Wood."

"Percussion."

"Okay folks. What do you want to talk about? We have a few hours to kill and we have hardly anything to do."

"What's everybody's grade?" Chimed in Christi. We ended up playing ring around the rosy with this thing. Starting with Jen.

Jen was in 9th grade along with Logan, Rebecca, Jonathan, Justin, Chris, Evan, Dave, and Sarah. Brandiey, Charlie, and Gray were in 10th grade, and Christi and Robbie were seniors. Mr. Ebert read off that Myles, Louis, and Michael were all in 9th grade also.

"So that makes 3/4ths the band new at marching."

Nothing really happened that day. We just talked about random topics about nothing. Learning more about each other, but more importantly, things about Mr. Ebert. He wasn't as cruel as some directors could be, but he wasn't Mr. Nicie either. How little I knew about all these things, and how much I would learn.


	2. Voices and Faintings

Voices and Faintings

"Hey Logan, what did you think about the director?"

"Kinda weird really, Sarah. He's seems hard but nice."

"He scared the living crap out of me. I hope I don't die this year."

"You won't die, but at least you're not the only flute."

"Yea, but I'm really scared. Tomorrow are we going to start marching?"

"Probably, it's marching band for a reason."

"OH be quiet Logan. And quit teasing me."

"But you're so fun to tease because you're a blond."

"Grr. I hope you faint tomorrow."

"Thank you and good night."

"Yea, 'night Logan."

"Okay kids, we're heading out to the field today, and because the football field isn't finished, we're going to have to pass it to go to the practice field. Let's head out."

Everyone that had been there the day before was there again. We all figured that because we had gotten the letters for band camp a week before hand some of them just couldn't make it.

Some of us were dressed appropriately in shorts and tennis shoes, other in jeaned pants, and one person, Angel, had decided to wear a skirt. This was going to be a fun day out on the field.

When we got there some were already sweating from the quarter mile walk to the field. Jen had laid down her sweatshirt with her mallets and Angel had put her cellphone on top of it.

"When I call you're name please come and stand in that place." He got us into a block formation and began going through the basics of marching. The senior and few sophomores helped give demonstrations of different maneuvers.

"Mr. Ebert, how do you want us to hold our sticks, sir?" Justin spoke up while in a parade rest position.

"In opposite directions in front of you. Jen, where are your mallets?"

"Over on the sideline, sir."

"Give me twenty push-ups and go and get them. I did not say you could leave them over there."

"Yes, sir." Jen grumbled. She did them with a little trouble, not having done them all summer, and ran to go and get her mallets. This guy would surely kill us all, if he was really like this.

By the end of practice, we were all sweating, hot, and very tired.

"You all did very good for a first day. I've seen band directors leave their kids standing at attention for thirty minutes to an hour. I figure because that most of you are not used to this, that would basically be murder." Like he hadn't already. At least two of us were swaying with ache.

Thud.

Someone had fallen over, but none of us wanted to get in trouble, so we didn't look to see who.

"Charlie. I didn't say we may rest. Charlie, you're going to owe me push-ups, now get up. Charlie?" No movement. "Charlie?" Mr. Ebert walked quickly over to the kid. "Everyone, at-ease." No one moved because we didn't know what to do. None of us had really seen anyone faint close-up before. "You can move kids. Anyone who feels faint also, please sit down."

A couple of kids sat down, but most of still started with awe. A boy that was helping out ran up to Mr. Ebert. "Do you want me to go and get some water?"

"Yes, and run. The doors should be unlocked."

The boy ran off and the rest of us sat down. Charlie had finally awoken with a very confused look on his face. "What happened?"

"You fainted Chuck. You feel better now? Water's on it's way."

"That hurt." He sat up slowly and rubbed the back of his head. He had fallen straight over like a wooden board.

We waited for over ten minutes and the boy still hadn't showed up.

"Okay, let's start heading back since, he doesn't seem to want to come all the way back here. Someone have Sarah lean on them, she looks pretty out of it also. And keep together just incase someone decides to faint also."

No one else had fainted, but this was something we were all going to remember. About half way back to the school, we ran into the boy.

"You're a bit late Pat. Give some of the water to Chuck, and the rest to Sarah. Sarah, for goodness sake lean on someone."

Patrick followed the orders very quickly and Sarah went to go lean on Logan. We were all pretty quiet the rest of the way back, but some were chit-chatting about random events.

When we all got back to the band room, most of us just laid right there on the nice cool floor.

"Okay, people, I don't know if we are going to have a practice tomorrow, because Hurricane Andrew is coming near us, but the next day we'll have a practice for sure."

Slowly our parents came to pick us up. We were all kind of nervous about Andrew, but after today, we were still dead scared of the evilness Mr. Ebert might invoke on us, but we were slowly warming up to him. He might not be that bad. Or, he might be worse as the weeks went on.

Author's Note:

The phone conversation I made up. I'm gonna try not to give out any clues as to who I am, so good luck if you have a guess at it. Charlie really did faint, and Sarah probably went to go lean on Logan. (They were a couple at the time.)

FrostFighter – thanks for e-mailing me. Let me know if I've screwed anything up so I can change it to the way it's supposed to be.

Onyx Rose – same goes for you.

Thanks for reading everyone.


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